Rarity's Horrible Bathroom Secrecy

After the recital, Rarity was free to mingle with the other party goers. Twice she was taken up the pussy by other guests, one of which being a squid monster from the neighboring nation of Moluskia. It was a great night indeed.

Even still, Rarity felt a sense of emptiness. No amount of tentacle rape or having her non-existent breasts groped by cross-dimensional eldritch abominations could satisfy her. Such was the tragedy of paraphilia; only a specific chord could be struck by the performer to produce a beautiful symphony of messy placental ejection.

From across the room, a familiar pair of brown eyes met hers. But ignoring the clearly exposed posteriors of her friends, she also saw a haunting face. Another unicorn, with a coat as pure white as her own stood adorned in a regal suit. She knew from his posture and mannerisms that he must be from the region. A regular knight in shining armor, he was.

"Whatcha saying 'bout my brotha?" Twilight asked, tapping Rarity on the shoulder.

Rarity snapped out of her trance. "Oh, not that Shining Armor, Miss Twilight. Though he also fits the bill, I must say. 10/10, would bang. No," she placed her hoof on Twilight's cheek and directed her to her real target. "You see that stallion, right there? The dreamiest man I've ever laid eyes on."

She squinted. "What, ya mean Blueblood? The guy's a cockmongler, Rare. A butt-pirate."

She felt ecstatic. "Perfect! Does he pitch or catch?"

"Ah, he's on top. He's got a problem raping the guards, and my brother got in a sticky sitchy-ation before. I guess it was in the stony lonesome, so it wasn't homo of my brother. He's a cunt destroyer."

"I never doubted that, Twilight. I'm sure I can convince Missus Cadenza into an orgy between the three of us one day, I'm sure we'd make a perfect fit. But right now, I just need to get in with that gentlecolt right there."

"Rarity, why you bein' a furfag? The word's gentleman, even a nigger like me know that."

"Whatever. Since we both know you're a magical negro, perhaps you can fix me up with a temporary penis, to convince him to take me up the rear? I just need it for an hour, long enough to get us in the middle of coitus. I want to get him hard enough that he doesn't care what he sticks his dick in."

"Futa magic, huh? Yeah, I think I can handle that. Hold still, I need to get some penetration in this."

Right there, in the middle of a crowded high-school auditorium (Celestia couldn't afford an actual theater), Twilight bent down and suddenly thrusted her horn into Rarity's twat. Absolutely no one noticed, as they were to busy watching Spike caramelldance. Rarity stood motionless and Twilight rammed her face up, down and and all around her pussy.

Twilight grunted, as performing the spell was becoming harder and harder as her horn did. She sometimes wished she was a brutha, so she could get hornboners more easily. Alas, she was like a female dog: capable of humping, but to no avail. Also, she was a bitch. She laughed at the narrator's wordplay.

Finally, it seemed as if Rarity's cunt was starting to grow tighter. Twilight wondered, for a second, if this was a sign that Rarity had been holding out on her, but then realized it was to fault of the spell. She quickly pulled her horn out, which was oddly dry, all things considered. It was as if Rarity could feel no sexual pleasure through vaginal contact. Twilight looked up, and saw the vulva begin to turn inside out; Rarity's inner uterus was growing into a solid appendage. Twilight smiled at her handiwork, then reminded herself she lacked hands. Oh, author, you so witty.

Rarity's penis began to take form, at first nothing but a hunk polymerized carbon, but growing into a long, girthy member. It was cleanly bisected by thick, full urethra, already fully loaded to come at the slightest provocation. To top it all off, the penis circumcised itself on the spot, and the fleshy foreskin fell neatly to the ground. Twilight knelt and, with her gums, seized the precious monument to the pagan goddess Luna. Then, with her mightest gargle, she spat it into Rarity's face.

"Yo Rar," she laughed, "didja hear about the Jew who cut for free? He only took tips."

Rarity did not seem to even notice Twilight's banter. All she could do was focus on the target at hand, standing just meters away. Her mind had long since given into automated response. Putting one foot in front of the other (and finding herself chafing at her newest appendage), she approached the mysterious stranger. He seemed to be telling a tale of his endeavors.

"And that's how I managed to make tentacle rape an olympic sport."

Blueblood's associates laughed. Rarity took the time to tap him on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, sir." Rarity noticed her voice began sounding deeper, as if testosterone was now taking the place of her blood. "May I ask you something, alone?"

Blueblood lifted his head, not even giving her a glance. "Ma'am, I must say, now is not the time to disrupt me, particularly to speak about something as personal as SWEET FANCY JESUS!" He caught a glimpse of Rarity out of his rolled eyes, and his gayboner launched with the fury of a thousand horny Beliebers.

His meaty member struck a mare standing across from him, socking her square in the face. The concussive force knocked her vertebrae out of place, severing her spine and killing her instantly. To add insult to injury, Blueblood's queer shaft had begun throbbing hard and veiny, and began contracting to a rhythm so bizarre, it would best be summed up in a 29/16 tempo. He began clenching at its length, and massaged a 16-hit combo that made him come all over the dead mare.

The unprecedented amounts of blood flowing to Blueblood's cock had drawn away from his brain. Within seconds of ejaculating, Blueblood collapsed.

Rarity seized the moment. Within the confusion, she bit into Blueblood's neck. With the agility only a stallion could accomplish (silly women thinking they can be athletic), she whisked him out of the cafetorium. Her silhouette was the last anyone saw of her, or Blueblood for that matter. It was if they had never existed.

Meanwhile, Robo-lestia watched sternly from her heavenly perch.

To be concluded once the author stops being a massive faggot.